Mata Awèn
by Meso the Hanyu
Summary: Who was America before the European nations found him? And how exactly did he live? Take a peak here. Shameless little!America cuteness.


Started this on Fourth of July. Finished before work a week later. I'm so slow.

This is as historically accurate as my knowledge and resources allowed. Let me know if I messed up on anything.

Thanks to StarlightSteel for editing. Without you, this would be kind of an eyesore.

Disclaimer: I disclaim everything.

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><p>"Mata Awèn! Where are you?" called a tall woman. She looked to be middle-aged, her long hair in a braid and a baby in a cradleboard on her back. It was winter, snow heavy on everything. Òkwës was one of the older mothers in her tribe. She was a Lenape Indian, living by the Delaware in what would one day be New Jersey.<p>

"Mata Awèn, come here now!" she repeated, the baby on her back cooing delightedly at the noise.

"Yes?" A little boy ran up, looking cheerful and pleasant. He did not look like the rest of his tribe. No, Mata Awèn was pale skinned, blue eyed and blond. Nothing like the red-skinned, dark-haired and -eyed Natives who cared for him.

Mata Awèn had been given his name because not only did he not belong, but he was also unknown. It was Òkwës' grandmother who had found the blond child. Since then the clan had cared for the forever youth, and Òkwës was his current mother figure.

"It is cold, why do you not wear your mantle?" the woman scolded, draping the deer hide cloak gently around the young man's shoulders.

"I'm sorry." The sky-eyed child mumbled, hanging his head and casting the tall woman an apologetic look.

Òkwës, of course, gave in. "You are a good child. Do not worry, I am not mad." She gently ruffled his hair and led him back to their lodging for sleep, because the sun was setting and children need rest.

Èlait, the child, curled up in the pile of hides when his mother set him down. Mata Awèn curled up with him, the pair warm despite the frigid air.

Mata Awèn was half asleep when voices reached his young, yet invariably old, ears. Shifting slightly in the pile of furs, he crawled toward the tent flap, straining to hear the elder tribe members.

"But Òkwës, they share his looks! They must be his people!"

"No! He is my son and I will not give him up!"

"Can you not see that they might be able to find his clan? Wouldn't you be unhappy if you were separated from us?"

"I-I suppose. Give it until after crop planting season; I do not want Mata Awèn near the pale-skins when he has chance of freezing."

"Done."

Of course all this talk scared the child more than he thought it should. He was going to be a great hero; he shouldn't be scared of having to leave his family.

But he was anyway. The only thing he had ever known was his tribe. He didn't really know what the elders meant by "they must be his people". Wasn't this his clan? Mata Awèn was more confused than some could guess. Sure, he didn't look like them. And he had a different relationship with nature. And the clothes that he, for some reason, refused to remove were an odd and unnatural white color. And the other children made fun of him…

The blonde's thoughts would have rambled on and on had he not heard his 'brother' shift and whine softly when he found himself alone. Sighing in a resigned manner, the little outsider curled up under the furs once more.

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><p>It was at the coldest time of the year that Mata Awèn and Èlait lost their 'mother'. The tribe was short on men, so she had left to help with the fur trapping to supply the trade they had going with the colonists. But starving coyotes were abundant that time of year and killed her and a few others along with nearly all the dogs they had brought with them.<p>

So tribe leader Kikehwèt took the children in under his roof. He had no children of his own, his wife expecting but nothing more. And the children were his nephews.

But, of course, this left Kikehwèt lost when Mata Awèn ran into the wigwam crying. The small child dove into his and Èlait's pile of bed furs.

"Child, what has happened?" Kikehwèt asked after several moments. The tribal leader crouched next to the sniffling bundle, running a hand through his mohawk of dark hair.

A blond head slowly poked from the pile of animal furs. The little blond wiped roughly at his eyes. Still sniffling slightly, the child opened his mouth "The other boys were making fun of me. They said I'm broken 'cause I don't look like them."

Kikehwèt was at a loss for words. Finally his wife pushed him aside and took the crying child into her lap, comfortingly petting his hair and cooing words of assurance.

Èlait came tottering in at that moment and blinked in surprise. "Mata sad?" he asked in that distinctive toddler voice, tilting his head curiously to the side. Very soon little Èlait crawled into his aunt's lap with his 'brother', the two huddling there while Kikehwèt put his arms around the whole group. So this was what it was like to have family.

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><p>It was a few years later when Mata Awèn saw his first colonists. Èlait was twelve years old, and so looked older than his 'big brother'. Their aunt had lost her first and second baby. She was pregnant with a third.<p>

Mata Awèn guessed his uncle hadn't kept his promise about sending him to the colonists in the spring. Or maybe it was a last wish that Kikehwèt was granting?

But anyway, the European-looking child was out, playing with one of his rabbits. He loved his rabbits. Mata Awèn was giggling with delight as he ran through the tall, new grass after the rabbit. His family was nearby, planting spring crops of the three sisters.

The blue-eyed child didn't seem to notice that he had gotten very, very far from his tribe's planting grounds. But the sound of unfamiliar dialect and voices reached his ears.

"Huh?" Mata Awèn tilted his head, holding his rabbit in tiny arms. "Ahh!" he yelped. The tall one with lighter hair than him was so scary looking! The shorter looked okay, but still!

Still yelling in fear, though making it seem like he was warning the others, he bolted into the field where the tribe was planting.

"Mata Awèn! You have trampled the young maize! What is the matter?" one man growled. He was a tall and scarred up hunter with a beak like nose and shrewd eyes. He scared most of the children.

Panting, the small child opened his mouth. "There were people and they were scary! I'm here to protect you from 'em!" he declared, trembling slightly.

Kikehwèt sighed in exasperation. "Èlait, you and your brother go back to the village and help with the night meal." The men were planting because they felt the need for something to do, having sufficient supplies of meat and no border scuffles. And most of the tribe's women were expecting

Èlait shot his 'brother' a sour look and walked off. Mata Awèn scrambled after him, dropping his bunny in the process.

"Wait up!" he yelped.

Èlait whirled around, his shoulder length hair and tanned hide leggings seeming to swirl around him in an almost violent, yet graceful manner. "Why do you do this to me! You have always been and always will be a child! You do not look like us! You do not act like us! You are not one of us, Mata Awèn! You are not even deserving of that name! I hope Mahtantu strikes you dead!" and so the young man ran off, leaving his brother standing there, hurt and confused.

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><p>Days and weeks and soon several months passed and Mata Awèn did not return. Èlait quickly came to regret yelling at the child as he had. He went looking for his younger brother every day when his tribal duties allowed.<p>

It was many years before Èlait saw his brother again. Kikehwèt was getting old and training him to be the tribal leader, as his wife had only had a daughter before dying during childbirth.

Èlait had long since given up on seeing his Colonist-colored little brother. Èlait was chosen to bring the furs to the village of colonists. It was cold out, so he packed the furs onto a sled pulled by the village's strongest dogs.

Èlait did not like the colonists. They had forced his family to move from the place they always lived. He was muttering to himself as he walked purposefully into the village after two days of travel. The dogs trotted after him, one unharnessed pup tottering at his side.

Èlait wore his best moccasins and deerskin breeches and had even put on the fine black colonists jacket that had his wife had beaded.

"AH! You are here with the beaver furs, yes?" the town's tailor asked. Èlait grunted in a noncommittal response.

The trade was made and Èlait was soon on his way, sled stocked up with many goods and a pouch of their strange currency heavy in his coat pocket. The tottering pup had dozed off on the sled, but the six pulling dogs didn't seem to notice.

"Oh please! It's such a neat toy!"

"Well, all right."

Èlait's head whipped to the side. He knew that begging child's voice. The Indian man's eyes widened. It was Mata Awèn! And… the child looked happy.

Mata Awèn was happy with that strangely accented colonist. So Èlait smiled and barked a command for the dogs to head to the edge of the village and wait there. Ever obedient, the pack moved off as one, tails down, ears back, and shoulders hunched. The dogs cared not for colonists either.

Èlait kept walking, but kept his pace slow. He pulled from his neck and arrowhead on a braided length of rope, a necklace.

"Oh thank you, Mr. Kirkland!"

"Well, ah, it's no problem, Alfred."

So that's what they were calling Mata Awèn. No one looked too strangely at Èlait. Most of them were used to Native American traders.

Èlait made sure to pass close by his brother and the thick-browed colonist. Close enough for his arm to brush the child's coat.

Smirking, Èlait dropped the necklace around the child's neck.

"Huh?" the blond formerly called Mata Awèn whirled around and stared for a long time after the retreating back of the Indian.

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><p>Okay, explanation time.<p>

Mata Awèn- It means 'no body' or 'nowhere'. I figured it worked here because Alfred had 'come from nowhere' in the Indians opinions, and they didn't know who he was.

Òkwës- Means fox. I thought she was fox-like enough for the name.

Èlait- Means hunter.

Kikehwèt- Means healer

Three sisters- Maize (corn), squash, and bean plants

Mahtantu- The Lenape version of the devil.

Tried to keep this as accurate as possible. Keep in mind that nations age funny, which is how I figure this works. Just my idea on what Alfred was doing before he was found by Finland, Sweden, England, and France.]


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